


From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah

by emeraldsandivy



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsandivy/pseuds/emeraldsandivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though Angie loathed the days Peggy came home to her less than whole, there was a private kind of intimacy in  being the only one who got to mend her back up again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I've had in my head for a while.
> 
> The title comes from the song Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen, though I listened to the Kate Voegele version when I was writing this.

Angie was jerked awake by the sound of the front door slamming shut. She sat up on the couch and rubbed at her eyes, hearing the sound of high heels clicking against the hardwood floor. As she stood, she noticed a tell tale stutter in the steps coming down the entryway. Breathing deeply, she braced herself and moved toward the archway into the hall. A familiar, but still heartbreaking sight, greeted her.

Peggy stood before her, bracing herself against the wall with one arm. She had neither seen nor heard Angie approach, with her head bowed and her shoulders slumped forward. Her breathing was labored, and, in the shadows, one would have assumed she was merely out of breath. Angie knew better.

“English?” Angie called quietly, stepping more fully into the hallway, and turning on the floor lamp. She immediately regretted the decision.

Peggy looked up at her through a pair of matching black eyes; her nose was swollen and blood streamed from a cut just above her eyebrow. Her lip was split, her other hand cradled her ribs, and she stood in a way that clearly favored her right leg, where a long gash stretched out from mid-calf to ankle. Her clothes were torn, stained with what Angie guessed was a mixture of dirt and blood. Whether or not this blood was also her own, Angie wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Peggy,” Angie breathed, concern flooding into her voice.

Peggy took several deep breaths. “A-Angie,” she gasped. She tried to take a step forward, but her body betrayed her and she stumbled precariously. Slim arms caught her before she could hit the floor, holding her up with more strength than Angie’s small frame suggested.

“I got you, English,” Angie reassured her, ducking beneath Peggy’s arm to prop her up. “What happened?”

“It was supposed to be a simple recovery mission,” Peggy replied through gritted teeth, as Angie led her down the hallway. “We didn’t know there’d be a swarm of guards waiting for us.”

Angie said nothing, just guided her into the kitchen. She sat Peggy down at the table and went to fetch the first aid kit. She pulled a second chair over so that she could sit in front of her and began to unpack the supplies. She poured some antiseptic onto a rag and cupped Peggy’s chin in her hand to tilt her head back. Gently, she began to dab at the cut on her forehead, earning a quiet hiss in response. Pausing to press a soft kiss to Peggy’s forehead, she resumed, wiping away the dry and crusted blood from her cheek and hairline. 

“Doesn’t look too deep,” Angie murmured, inspecting the cut. “Definitely doesn’t need stitches, anyway.”

Peggy nodded, reaching up to gently prod at the wound. “It’s always the least serious that bleed the worst, it seems,” she muttered, moving her hand away so Angie could fix a band-aid over it.

Angie picked the rag back up, adding some more antiseptic to it, and reached down to cup Peggy’s calf and pull her leg up so that it was resting on her knees.

“Don’t know if I’d go that far,” Angie replied, inspecting the long gash down Peggy’s leg. “I’d say this one’s pretty serious.”

Peggy remained silent, waiting for Angie to finish scrutinizing the injury, wincing slightly when she would poke to close to the opening.

Sighing, Angie put the rag down and reached for a needle and silk, quickly threading it through the hole and setting it aside for later.

“This one’s gonna need stitched up,” she said, picking the rag back up. “But I gotta clean the wound first.” She hesitated, reaching forward to squeeze Peggy’s knee. “This is gonna sting, English. A lot.” 

Peggy closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose, and sat up a bit straighter in her seat. She moved her hands down to curl around the edges of the chair. 

“Let’s be done with it then,” she conceded. 

Angie nodded and braced a hand beneath Peggy’s calf to keep her steady. She tightened her fingers around the rag and began to clean up the blood and grime as carefully as possible. When she gently ran the cloth over the wound, a sharp gasp echoed through the quiet kitchen. Gripping Peggy’s calf firmly, Angie kept her still while she worked, the small whimpers that would break free from Peggy’s pursed lips now and then pulling on her heart.

She put the bloodstained rag aside and picked up the needle, looking at Peggy.

“You need anything before I start sewing?” Angie asked.

Peggy thought for a moment with a grim expression on her face. “I wouldn’t say no to a bit of whiskey,” she replied with a shrug.

Chuckling, Angie carefully moved Peggy’s leg from her lap and walked over to the liquor cabinet and found what she needed in the front of the top shelf. Forgoing a glass, she deposited the bottle of Johnnie Walker on the table. Peggy picked it up with a smile as Angie sat back down, lifting her leg back onto her knees.

“Bless you, darling,” Peggy toasted, taking a long swallow.

Angie chuckled. “Don’t praise me just yet, English,” she said. “You ready?”

Peggy took another long draw from the bottle. “As I’ll ever be,” she admitted.

Angie nodded and leaned over Peggy’s leg, placing a steadying hand against her calf, and pierced the needle through the skin.

“Mmm,” Peggy groaned at the discomfort, taking another swig of whiskey.

Angie worked as quickly as possible, threading the needle back and forth while Peggy sipped on her whiskey. With a final loop, she snipped off the end of the silk and wrapped a layer of gauze around Peggy’s leg for good measure, giving her ankle a light pat when she was finished.

“You’re getting quite good at that,” Peggy complimented as she pulled her leg from Angie’s knees.

“You kinda have to when someone comes home every other night with a new injury,” Angie responded, not looking at Peggy as she packed up the first aid kit.

Peggy paused for a moment, watching Angie. They both knew her job was dangerous and had accepted the risks when they’d finally made the leap from friends to lovers, but Peggy could sometimes see the strain that it put on Angie. She knew that it was often unfair to her, especially whenever Peggy left her waiting up late into the night, sometimes not coming home until the next morning. She’d found Angie asleep on the couch more times than she could count and relied on her to mend her wounds far too frequently. Angie was more than she deserved, and Peggy knew she’d done a rather poor job in showing her gratitude.

“Angie…” Peggy began, reaching forward to squeeze her hand, grateful when she let her.

“I’m not angry, English,” Angie interrupted, finally looking up at Peggy. “I just worry, ya know? I don’t know where you’re going or what you’re up to most nights and then you come home all banged up, and I…”

She trailed off, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked down at their joined hands. Peggy reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Angie’s ear, and cupped her cheek. 

“You what, Angie?” she asked quietly.

Angie sniffed, blinking back her tears as she looked back at Peggy. “I’m scared that one day you might not come home at all,” she whispered

Peggy felt her heart break. She stood gingerly, bringing Angie with her, and pulled her into her arms.

“Oh my darling,” Peggy murmured, dropping a kiss into Angie’s hair. “I can’t promise that nothing will ever happen to me, but I can promise that I will always try my hardest to come home to you.”

“I know,” Angie sniffed, leaning back to look up at her. “But I still worry. I always will.”

Peggy leaned their foreheads together, closing her eyes. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too, Peg,” Angie replied, rising up on her toes to press a careful kiss to her cheek, mindful of her swollen lip. She wrapped her arms more firmly around Peggy’s torso, squeezing gently, but retracted immediately when a sharp gasp escaped from Peggy’s lips and her entire body tensed.

“Peggy?” Angie asked, alarmed. “What’s wrong? What hurts?”

Peggy’s face was scrunched up into a grimace and she sank back down into the chair behind her

“Got caught in the ribs a few times,” she groaned, closing her eyes. “I’m afraid it might be a little more serious than I thought.” 

Angie knelt down and rested her hands on Peggy’s knees, listening quietly as Peggy breathed deeply through her nose to try and reduce the pain. She watched as her face began to relax and her breaths evened out, her body loosening up so that she slumped back against the chair. Angie reached a hand forward and uncurled one of Peggy’s closed fists so that she could lace their fingers together.

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs?” Angie asked, her eyes sweeping over Peggy’s injuries. “We should probably wrap those ribs and I don’t want you sleeping on the couch in this condition. You need a nice, soft bed.”

Peggy nodded slightly, opening her eyes and sitting up a little straighter. “I can manage,” she said lowly. “But I could use a little bit of support.”

Angie nodded and helped Peggy up from her chair, leaving the first aid kit on the table. She’d get it in the morning. She knew that Peggy must really be hurting, because she absolutely despised asking for help, even if it was aggravatingly clear that she needed it. Even with Angie, she had a habit of putting on a brave face, so if Peggy was asking for help, she really meant it. Angie ducked under her arm again, supporting her injured leg, and began to walk her slowly toward the stairs and up to their room.

It was slow going and Peggy needed to stop a few times; once at the bottom of the stairs and again at the top. Her breathing was labored and her face was twisted up in pain. Had Angie not had hold of her, she likely would have toppled down the stairs, if she even made it up them at all. They finally made it to the bedroom, Angie guiding Peggy to sit on the bed while she went to rummage around in the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later with a washcloth and a small basin of water and the wrap to bind Peggy’s ribs. 

Peggy was right where she’d left her, eyes closed with a hand pressed to her torso. As Angie approached, she opened her eyes, inspecting the items in the other woman’s hands.

“I’m just gonna clean you up a bit,” Angie explained, setting the supplies on the night stand. “Then we’ll get you wrapped up and tucked into bed, okay?”

Peggy just nodded, tired and ready to comply with whatever Angie wanted if it would lead to getting some much needed rest. 

“Let’s get these clothes off first,” Angie suggested. 

She stood Peggy up for a second, finding the zipper in her skirt and pulling it carefully down her legs, and then unclipped her girdle to follow. She sat her back down and began to unbutton her blouse carefully, mindful of any injuries. Peggy waited patiently and shrugged it off once the last button had been undone, tossing it to the floor with her skirt. 

It was the first good look that Angie got of Peggy’s ribs. Though fairly new, the bruises along her right side were already a deepening shade of blue ringed in red. She poked at them lightly, trying to maintain her composure in front of Peggy, who was groaning in pain from Angie’s prodding. Once she was satisfied that nothing was broken, she returned to the task of getting Peggy cleaned up. 

Angie pulled the washcloth from the basin and rung out the water. She raised Peggy’s arms in turn and gently wiped away the grime from her skin, working in meticulous fashion, as if it were the most important task in the world. She moved slowly from her arms to her neck, down the length of each leg, mindful of her stitches, and finished with what she had missed while cleaning off her face. Angie stopped a moment to inspect Peggy’s nose, framed by two deepening black eyes, causing Peggy to wince at the touch.

“I don't think it’s broken,” Angie said quietly turning Peggy’s chin back and forth. “But you got clocked pretty good. We’ll keep an eye on it, just in case.”

She dropped the washcloth back into the basin and walked over to the closet, pulling out a slip and Peggy’s favorite black and red robe. She laid them on the bed and picked up the wrap, looking at Peggy for a moment.

“Would you rather have your brassiere on or off?” Angie asked. “Which would be easier?”

“Off, I think,” Peggy said after a moment, reaching behind to undo the clasp. Angie helped her slip it off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor with the rest of her clothing. It was normally a sight that Angie would welcome, but gazing at Peggy’s battered body only made her stomach turn and tears prick the corners of her eyes. She moved in close enough that she could smell the trace of gun smoke that still clung to Peggy’s skin. Living with Peggy, it was a familiar scent, almost comforting even. She unraveled the fabric and pressed an end to the top of Peggy’s torso, just below her breast.

“Could you hold that there, please?” she asked quietly.

Peggy obliged and Angie set to work. She leaned over Peggy so that their foreheads were nearly touching, wrapping the bandage around her ribs and waist firmly, passing it from hand to hand in a fluid motion. She could feel Peggy’s breath on her cheek, watching her with a kind of softness in her eyes. It was an expression that no one else got to see; like a secret that was hers, and hers alone. Though Angie loathed the days Peggy came home to her less than whole, there was a private kind of intimacy in being the only one that got to see her like this; being the one who got to mend her back up again.

As she finished, tucking the edge of the bandage in, she felt Peggy’s arms snake around her waist and hold her where she was. Peggy leaned forward and rested her forehead against Angie’s shoulder, not saying a word. Angie tilted her head against Peggy’s and closed her eyes, enjoying the quiet moment between them. She felt Peggy’s head shift, and a soft kiss was pressed against her collarbone before Peggy sat back, watching Angie intently.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered thickly. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t say that enough.”

“It’s enough that you even let me do it at all,” Angie said, running a hand through Peggy’s hair. “I know how hard it is for you to ask for help.”

Peggy managed a small smile at that and leaned forward for a kiss, but Angie pulled back at the last moment.

“Your lip, Peg,” she reminded her.

“Oh sod my lip,” Peggy argued, curling her hand around the back of Angie’s neck and bringing them together.

It was a careful kiss, but long and sweet, like the ones they would often share lazily after sex. It was a kiss full of promise, when they both knew there was no one in the world they’d rather share this moment with than each other. When they pulled back, Peggy looked at Angie as if she held the secrets to life itself. Angie blushed at the intensity and turned her attention to the slip and robe still lying on the bed beside them.

“C’mon, English,” she coaxed. “Let’s get you dressed and into bed.”

She slipped the chemise over Peggy’s head and folded the robe, placing it on the chair of the vanity. She helped Peggy into bed, tucking the covers around her, before pulling her own slip from the closet and disappearing into the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later, dressed and fresh faced, and slipped into bed beside Peggy. Once she was comfortable, Peggy shifted over and laid her head on Angie’s chest, draping an arm across her torso. Angie curled an arm around Peggy’s shoulders and held her close.

“You were right,” Peggy murmured, already dozing off. “The couch would have been hell. This is much better.”

Angie just chuckled and pressed a kiss to Peggy’s hair. “Goodnight, Peg,” she whispered.

A light snore was her only response.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm emeraldsandivy on Tumblr, come say hi!
> 
> Also, an update to Heavy In Your Arms is coming. I just wanted to take a short break and took the opportunity to pop this little story out, in the meantime.


End file.
